


Monster of the Week

by PerfectSilence (hitomishiga)



Series: monster related content, [5]
Category: Love Live! School Idol Project, Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Body Horror, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Monsters, One Shot Collection, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9417095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitomishiga/pseuds/PerfectSilence
Summary: cross-posted on tumblr.Every week, a different monster au.6 - medusa, kotomaki7 - urban fantasy, disciplinary trio8 - fire elemental, elipana9 - familiar, kanachika10 - curse, chika+ruby11 - shapeshifter, yō&chika&riko





	1. Honoka - AI/mech

**Author's Note:**

> hay so i have a new project that maybe ill actually do to some completion, it's not really focused on the shipping so much as the Cool Monsters

Umi and Kotori stagger into the cockpit, both equally out of breath for different reasons. Kotori’s legs feel like jelly from the stairs, while Umi looks like she's about to fall apart on the spot. In the quiet, nerves thrum and crackle like electricity between them.

It's a wide open space, with a massive window overlooking the greys and greens of Tokyo, and a long control panel with three chairs. A true battlemech, Kotori thinks, out of commission but no less grand than it had been during the war. Hopefully it still works. It has to. It's their last hope.

“Plug it in,” Umi says, commands, with a sense of urgency Kotori feels in her bones. She doesn't miss how Umi’s voice shakes.

Hovering over the control panel, Kotori feels an ounce of hesitation which quickly grows into a pit of doubt in her chest. In her hands, she holds a small chip, covered in flexiplast and painted with a single character in shaky calligraphy. It's all they have left. It's all they have left.

Her visions swims ahead of her. She can't do this. What's pulling her back? She can't tell. Is it the fear of failure? The fear of riding all your hopes in one silicon chip, only to have it dashed aside like a tower of cards?

Is it the fear that whatever is inside may not be the same as before?

“I-” Kotori chokes, her hand blurring into three and making the proper port hard to find. “I can't-”

Umi’s behind her in an instant. She's shaking, but she still tries to be a tower of strength. How adorably stubborn. “I'll do it,” she says, and takes the chip from Kotori’s trembling hand. She fumbles around for the right port - they all look the same, Kotori begins to doubt it'll even work at all, this was all a mistake, they have to keep moving, keep _running_ -

It clicks.

Kotori holds her breath and crosses her fingers without even thinking about it. A flood of thoughts - of memories and feelings - crashes through her mind with the subtlety of an avalanche and she can barely dissect them. _Failure_. The word seeps through her skin and taints her. She barely registers Umi’s tightly clenched fist. She barely registers the lights on the console flickering to life.

 _I just want Honoka back_ , she thinks, loud and clear. And just like that, Honoka awakens and with her voice Kotori knows peace.

“Wo- _woah_ , that was weird, I-” Honoka says (her voice is what pixels sound like) before she halts. Umi doesn't look away from the window, but she tenses. Kotori takes a step back and looks up, and around, as if Honoka is going to materialise right there. Of course, she doesn't. She's not exactly real or alive anymore.

“Guys? What happened? Where am I?”

Umi steels herself with a sharp intake of breath, but before she can respond, Kotori blurts out, “Honoka!” and then the whole flook jolts and they both stumble to the ground. The whirring of ancient, ancient machinery all around them is almost like the sounds of life. Something crashes outside - Kotori surmises it might have been the mech’s giant foot.

“Kotori?” Honoka asks, much quieter now, and the floor stabilises again. Above them, a camera spins around a few times before jerkily setting its single eye on the two of them. “Umi? What happened? What- where are we, why are you- and-”

It hurts, to hear Honoka like this. It wasn't as if she had ever been the most astute or together person, but she'd been constant. She'd been relentlessly optimistic. She'd been Kotori’s ray of sunshine forever and ever and ever, and now she sounds so lost and fragile, so dull and far away, less like the sun and more like a distant star.

Thankfully, Umi took the terse silence as a permit to answer in Kotori’s stead. “Honoka -” she starts, then shakes her head and draws back. “Honoka, do you remember anything that happened to you?”

There was a long, painful pause. “... I don't... know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I- it feels all like a dream,” Honoka says with a laugh in her voice, “like a really, really weird dream…” She laughs now, but Kotori fancies that she hears the choked up sob it masks. Honoka’s voice crackles out and back into existence, and the floor shifts again, but only minutely, and perhaps she's starting to piece things together.

Kotori doesn't want Honoka to piece it together. She wants Honoka to be happy forever, just as it should be.

“... I really _did_ die, didn't I?”

Umi mutters something under her breath that could have been curse, if she were any lesser person. Kotori looks down at her fingers, tracing the burns trailing up her hands. A gentle reminder of her folly. Even the hum of the mech seems to quiet, as if Honoka is holding her breath.

“I'm sorry,” Kotori’s apology bubbles out before she can stop herself, “I'm so _sorry,_ Honoka, I didn't _mean_ -”

“It's not your fault, Kotori,” Honoka interrupts gently. The mech’s giant hand comes to rest against the window, almost a consolation. “I shouldn't have been so reckless. Umi told me not to do it, anyway. I should have listened.”

“You saved their lives,” Umi said, “you saved their lives, and so Maki was able to… Bring you back. In a sense.”

It goes quiet again and Kotori shakily wipes at her eyes. The reunion she had hoped for, but not the one she deserves. Even if it's not in flesh and blood, even if it's just circuits and wires and a voice that's just a bit off, it's still _Honoka_. And Kotori feels like the treacherous disciple, forgiven so completely that it hurts deep down in her core.

After several minutes, there's finally movement. A small and doubtlessly rusted protrusion pushes through the centre of the floor, surprising both Kotori and Umi into leaping back. It spins around slowly (like a turret, like a sentry gun) exactly once before a blue light beams upwards. It's a projector. Kotori gasps in hopeful desperation.

The beam widens, fades, and standing there in the light of the projector is Honoka herself. She is blue, and somewhat transparent. Her image distorts in static before she begins to move. It's not a state of the art holographic image but it's Honoka and what else matters.

Without thinking, Kotori reaches out for Honoka’s arm. It passes right through, leaving a peculiar ray of shadow where her fingers obstruct the light. She _knew_ this would happen.

That doesn't stop her from sobbing out loud for the first time. She bundles herself in and falls to her knees at Honoka’s feet, her voice obscured by the thick nettles of her agony. Umi is quick to her side, rubbing her back in calming circles. Honoka panics and flusters and kneels down, trying to do anything, something, but she can't. She can't do anything except speak.

“I'm sorry,” Honoka is saying, “I didn't mean to - Umi, I really didn't mean to - I thought it'd be nice if you could at least see me again…”

Through her dreadful tears, Kotori smiles in a worn out grimace. “It's wonderful,” she whispers, “it's wonderful…”


	2. Yoshiko - Tiefling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey disclaimer ive never played d+d any higher than like 2e and this isn't an accurate representation anyway I just like tieflings look em up

****  
The moon passes through its third cycle. The autumn wind changes thrice and settles eastward. For the third time, Yoshiko places a gentle, delicate hand inside the sack of valuables, hoping for a find. Relishing in the thrill.

“Came back, did you?”

The voice is high pitched, hints of a foreign accent dancing off the tongue. Yoshiko pauses against her better judgement, her hand still halfway in the sack. She feels something cold and smooth. She could run away with it now, while her target has their back turned, sneaking off into the night like a ghostly wraith, a master thief.

She does not.

Now, the adventurer turns around. Golden-silk hair springs from her hood (Yoshiko is sure it must be a woman, by now) but her torso is completely hidden from view. Yellow eyes bore right into her soul, and Yoshiko realises too late that she's up against a sorceress.

Too late to back down now. Even if she tries, Yoshiko’s hand is glued inside the bag. A payment for her crime. Just desserts for her greed. Yoshiko hisses and tries to remember the old anti-magic cantrip her mother taught her, but it comes as easily to her mind as would the names of the emperors of the First Dynasty. It doesn't seem like it would be much help, anyway. This magic is so thick and tangible she can almost smell it.

A light flickers on around the adventurers fingertips. It's eerie blue, but gives her features more detail. A fully fleshed face, enviable lashes. A cat-like smirk. Perfect skin. Surely, this person is too beautiful to be wandering the forest alone - she must be some distant noble, or a maiden in distress.

Yoshiko crinkles her nose at the three-pointed emblem on the adventurer’s cape.

“I… Don't suppose you're gonna let me go?” Yoshiko tries. She isn't stupid enough to think it wouldn't be completely futile, but she really just feels like giving some snark to the one guileless traveller who caught her red handed so easily.

“Hmm…” The adventurer pretends to think. “ _No_. You know, if you wanted to be a bit more subtle, you could have at least left alone my _enchanted_ amulet.”

Yoshiko goes white. A mixture of fear and embarrassment courses through her veins in equal portions. Suddenly, she's aware that she can't move any muscle in her body, excepting her face and the very tip of her tail.

Would her punishment for her theft be those cold claws of magic, gripping her heart until it stopped beating?

“Still, I must ask,” Yoshiko bravely stalls, “how did you know? That I was there?”

“Detect magic,” the adventurer replies easily. At Yoshiko’s confusion, she gestures to the amulet on Yoshiko’s breast. “You made yourself a beacon for _all_ the magic users in the area. You're just lucky you decided to pick on me and not someone meaner.”

“Why’s that?”

“If I were any meaner, you'd be dead, Tiefling.”

Tiefling. A cursed word. Cursed blood. Cursed lineage. Yoshiko prefers the term ‘fallen angel’. It sounds prettier and more inviting than ‘demon spawn’.

Three seconds, measured in three heartbeats. Are they hers, or the adventurer’s?

“Ok then, human,” Yoshiko tries to spit it out as an insult but it sounds like a jest, “take the paralysis off and we’ll see! Your magic tricks mean nothing to the great fallen angel, Yo- ACK!”

She doesn't get to finish, face planted firmly in the dirt. The spell has worn off and her hand is free. But her face hurts. She's sufficiently humiliated, and empty handed. The trio of sisters continue to laugh and gossip around their table in the stars. And there's a small and almost mocking giggle from the blonde sorceress behind her, which makes Yoshiko blush to the tips of her pointed ears.

How unbecoming. She rubs her horns, searching for a crack, head throbbing.

“Ohara Mari.”

Yoshiko turns around. The magic light is gone, replaced by the crackling of a familiar torchlight. The sorceress bends down, hand outstretched. Ohara Mari. The name doesn't ring any bells, but then, Yoshiko has been stuck outside civilisation for God knows how long. Mari makes a purposeful gesture. “My amulet,” she says.

Sheepishly, Yoshiko reaches inside her tunic and pulls out the thing. It's gold, encrusted with pretty jewels. If not for her folly tonight, maybe it'd catch a good price at the local bazaar. Alas. She hands it over, feels the tingle as the magic leaves her body. Mari takes it with a smile.

“I've no ill will against you, Tiefling,” says Mari, “but I _must_ warn you not to try that again. Wouldn't want to get in trouble now, would we?”

Yoshiko just stares ungainly for a while, before using her powerful tail to get herself to her feet. The wind blows. Yoshiko can smell change.

“My name,” she says promptly, “is Yo- Yoshiko. Tsushima Yoshiko. Not Tiefling.”

“Of course,” Mari replies cooly, “it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Tsushima Yoshiko, even under… _These_... circumstances.”

“You're not going to curse me or something?”

Mari blinks, and laughs. It's a grating laugh. “Goodness, no, no, _non_. What do I look like, a _sorceress_?”

Yoshiko cleverly refrains from answering.

“Besides,” Mari continues, “you are a _very_ cute little thief, hm? It would be a shame to curse away that _beautiful_ face~”

Mari’s face morphs into a shadowy smirk, her eyes twinkling. Through her shock, Yoshiko muses that nobody else has ever called her (cursed, damned, demonic) face _beautiful_ before. Nobody has ever caught her before, either, but she supposes that her streak of luck couldn't last forever.

Although, she thinks as Mari takes her hood off to properly reveal her whole head, perhaps tonight has been the luckiest night of all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah and as u can tell Timezone differences and holidays fuced me over but hopefully next week my writing will get better. or worse. who knows.


	3. Tsubasa - stargazer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ur daily reminder that a dark room is really good and worth the money, and this is exactly based off its sequel, the ensign, so spoilers I guess. but mostly predictability.  
> also war themes, and death.

It smells of ash.

The last of the resistance put up a fight, but they're nothing, really. They’ll be wiped out by the time reinforcements arrive. You've won. For now, you've won. The stars are yours - everyone’s - to reclaim once more.

And they’re beautiful.

“Kira!” Your lieutenant shouts from across the street. She’s still got her rifle in her arms, and gives you a tired, but proud, salute. “We’ve rounded up the survivors in our sector! Awaiting orders!”

“Good job, Toudou,” you tell her, not even bothering to hide the weary edge to your voice. You’ve got injuries that need medical attention, but for now, you just want to bask in your victory. You have enough flesh to cook on the pyre later, which should do the trick for the meantime. “The Admiral is waiting by the pyre, I suggest you let him know.”

“Yes, Commander.”

You make your way down the derelict street. It feels dead, skeletal. Your boot crunches against something which might be a human skeleton. It crumbles like nothing.

An infant cries in the distance. There’s not much else.

Round the corner, where the light of the ship doesn’t quite cast its light, leaving flickering, dead shadows (they look like comrades, they look like _terrified civilians-_ ) you walk with purpose. One of your hands scrapes along the already-decaying brick wall as you walk beside it, as if you could make it crumble completely with just a touch. As if it would reveal the secrets of this forsaken planet.

Further back in the shadows, crouched by the stump of a tree, there’s a girl. Young. Dirty. She looks up, and there’s blood crusting her cheeks. Her eyes are still bright, somehow. Bright and blue. She recognises you, of course. You aren’t a defector, you still have all your arms. The katana at your side says more than words.

“... You…” Her voice is but a whisper on the night wind. Just as it should be.

“You monsters… You… **monster** …” She’s choking back sobs. You’re trained not to notice even as you continue your slow and steady advance.

“I t-thought… I thought we could all just get along… what happened to that…?” She doesn’t back down, even as the divide between you narrows. You glare down at her, daring her to speak another word. Perhaps you fancy you’ve seen those eyes before, staring you down in determination. It’s likely. It’s not important.

You switch to the native tongue to reply. “That was never on the agenda, **human**. Soon, it will be endless winter, and your kind will perish. You would be wise to seek refuge with the other humans in the town centre, instead of here in the dark alone.”

“The _prisoners_ , you mean.”

“Pardon?”

“The other humans,” she says, “th-the prisoners, you mean.”

Despite first appearances, you have to admit this human is sharper and tougher than most, somehow. Even though she’s on the verge of death, even though her eyes waver with unshed tears, even though she is on her hands and knees in the dirt, you have to admire her spirit.

Surely, if you were in the same situation, you’d have given up.

You wonder what’s keeping her going. That’s how humans work, you’ve discovered. Completely bound to the laws of inertia.

“Yes,” you draw out slowly, carefully, ears now trained for the slightest noise. “The prisoners. But they are safe, and warm, and they will be fed.”

“And then?”

If you freeze, you don’t show it. The wintery chill is already starting to get to you, though. Cold, dry, dusty. Just like every other cursed planet the Wanderer’s have destroyed.

“They will live far longer than you will out here.” You say, trying to appeal to the human’s twisted reason. Fools. All of them. There’s a flare from their infantile sun, where it hovers just above the horizon, a sentinel. How much longer? Weeks? Days? Hours? Would the Admiral just order their execution straight away?

“How much longer?” The human dares to retort, and there’s a fire in her eyes. That famed fire of the human race. You want that flame for yourself, in your own eyes. Charisma. Spirit. Strength. Solidarity.

( **Survivor** )

Under the seven sisters, you stare off against a rogue human, and there’s only one option, only one order, and nothing you could do or wish or want can change that.

“If you stay here, I will have to kill you.”

She says nothing, of course. She just bows her head, defeated. It’s the only concession of the war that leaves you with a strange bitterness like copper under the taste of victory. Perhaps this is how they got them, the defectors - infected them with that “ **humanity** ”, severed their limbs and twisted their psyche until they _were_ human.

Perhaps. You’re too strong a Wanderer for that, though.

Another flare in the sky, as the frail mother star is sucked further and further away by the colony ship. It’s beautiful. One last time, you gaze at the stars above. Shattered fragments of the moon scatter the sky like tears, like eyes, in a certain fatal sort of melancholy. You grab the hilt of your blade with one hand, and draw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every day I stray further from gods light and also characterisation but yolo,


	4. Mari - demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love not making any sense

“You know why you're not supposed to look directly at a light?”

Riko glanced at the light above their heads, swaying gently even though there was no breeze to speak of. Far off in the sky, the stars, the eyes of those extradimensional beings from beyond the veil, bore into Riko’s back and her memories.

“Because you'll damage your eyes?”

Mari tittered lightly and paused her carving for a moment. Her shadow flickered, sharing in a mirth which Riko did not quite understand. “That's true,” she admitted, “but there's a little bit more to it then that. Demons travel through light beams, see - especially those strong ones, like the ones you saw back home.”

Images flashed through Riko's mind. Mirrors, and mirrors. Blinding light. White clad demons and shadowed guardians, hovering, and that ungodly, sickly noise. And the _smell_. The smell of sulphur and of burning and of something not unlike chlorine. Tall things with limbs and something that might be a head if you're generous, that move and glide and destroy.

“If you look directly at a light,” Mari continued with a grave tone to her voice, “that's like an invitation. It's opening the gateway, if you will. If you're not careful, they'll come right in-”

Mari snapped her fingers.

“- and take over your body, like that.”

Riko swallowed, and forced her eyes down, away from the light. Away from danger. Mari’s shadow, light and glowing not of any light of its own, but some invisible light source beyond human perception, gazed at her with its many eyes and it's shifting, demonic bulk. Riko wondered who it was before.

“Is that-” Her gaze travelled up Mari’s bare arm, flesh carved with glyphs that glowed. “- what happened to you?”

There was fear, of course, but also sadness, in the way that Mari slowly put down her bone charm and closed her eyes. A certain melancholy. Liquid gold light prickled on her eyelashes as she peeled her eyes open, the eyes of a demon staring back out like pinpricks of solid light.

“If you work with demons for too long,” Mari said, and a chill ran down Riko’s spine, “you eventually become one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got any suggestions i need em


	5. Kanan - wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no offence! im terrible at updating when i say i will but only a day late isn't too bad right

“Kanan,” Dia said, with a quick little rap on the bathroom door, “are you alright? You left the party quite suddenly and you've been in there for a while - are you feeling ok?”

“I'm-” A bump that sounded suspiciously like an elbow against the cupboard. “- fine.”

Yeah, right, Dia thought, but she didn't say it out loud. She had tact. There was a worrying amount of silence, though, and Dia was starting to think that maybe Kanan wasn’t tipsy on Mari’s _outrageously_ unpronounceable alcohol and was, legitimately, unwell. She knocked again.

“Kanan?”

A gasp, or a hiss. And - yes, that was definitely Ruby’s bottle of shampoo. This called for an intervention. “I'm coming in,” Dia warned as she turned the knob, less out of actual courtesy than making sure Kanan had her shirt on.

“Wait!” Kanan sputtered out, and Dia didn't think she'd ever heard her sound so desperate and _rushed_. No, _pained_. It was enough to give her pause. “Wait, please, just, I need some - something -”

“You need what?”

“Like, tape, or something.”

Dia let go of the doorknob. “Tape, or something.” She counted exactly three seconds of no coherent answer and continued, “did you break something?”

“... No. I don't think so. I'm fine, really.”

“Is my bathroom fine?”

Kanan shuffled around on the tiles a bit, and Dia strained her ears against the wooden door to hear a heavy, uneven breathing. Ok, that was _it_. She promised herself she'd stop standing on the sidelines, and if Kanan was up to no good (or worse, _dying_ , or at least unconscious) Dia would never forgive herself for not opening that door.

“It's f-” Kanan stopped dead in her tracks upon making face-to-face contact with Dia. Her hair was well and truly stuck to her forehead with sweat. Yes, Ruby’s shampoo bottle was on the floor, and it looked like every other cupboard had been open in haste. Also, Kanan’s abs were _quite impressively_ visible, because there were massive, feathery wings awkwardly positioned under her shirt, lifting it up graciously.

“Oh.” Said Dia.

“Yeah.” Said Kanan.

That would explain a lot of things, Dia thought as she ran her eyes appraisingly across the span of midnight blue feathers sprouting from Kanan’s back. Typically, they were large and rough, but still intensely beautiful. They twitched and curled. Dia wondered how much conscious control over them Kanan had, before catching herself and wondering how this was all physically possible in the first place.

“Kanan.” She began, except she had no idea where to even begin with all this so she just gave up and slumped back against the doorframe. “Why is everything on the floor?”

Kanan blinked, then scratched her head. She winced at the movement, no doubt in pain from her new appendages. “I, uh, I'm sorry. I was looking for something to, maybe bind these back? Or, painkillers. Or something. Sorry.”

Ah. Dia sighed, only in fondness, mind you, and shook her head. Kanan chuckled shakily and avoided eye contact. What a new side of her, Dia mused. A side _just for her,_ perhaps.

“You’re going to need to help me put everything back, you know.” Dia said with a hint of a smile. “And I'll need some scissors.”

“Some - scissors?”

“For your shirt,” Dia replied, “it'll be a lot easier for you if your, ah, wings, can just sit nicely instead of crushed like that.”

"Ah."

As Dia began to set everything right, humming the catchy American pop still thumping outside, Kanan leaned against the counter and laughed. “You're surprisingly calm about all this,” she said, “I was expecting a bit more…”

“Screaming?”

Kanan shrugged. “Not exactly, but yeah.”

Dia closed the medicine cabinet. Kanan was awfully close, now. Her wings, upon closer inspection, were incredibly rough, needed some grooming, and were specked with what she hoped _wasn't_ blood. Resisting the urge to touch, she sized them up and made a few mental calculations.

“I'm actually rather used to this by now, as you should know,” she said primly, and as soon as she made eye contact with Kanan she knew they'd both thought of the same thing and burst out in giggles. “I'm not _Sakurauchi-san_ , after all.”

“That's true, I guess.”

“Besides,” Dia continued to ramble without thinking, “I always knew you were an angel.”

The beat of silence that followed was physically palpable enough to cease Dia’s existence altogether and she _entirely_ blamed the _outrageous_ atmosphere and not her own foolishness.

It wasn't even a good line. Dia was just ashamed of herself on all accounts.

“You're not gonna make a ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven’ joke, are you?” Kanan asked, and her tone was so almost-teasing that Dia couldn't tell what part she was making fun of. Probably all of it. How mortifying. Of _course_ she wasn't going to use such a terrible pickup line, and she'd _never_ thought about it, either!

Kanan stepped a little closer, even through the teeth-gritting discomfort at her back, and smiled so gently Dia had to covertly grab the countertop to stop from melting into the ground or doing something regrettable.

“Because,” Kanan purred, and just when did she get so _damn smooth_ and _illegal_ \- “I definitely fell hard for _you_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see the only problem is this wasn't even about the wings at all but i never said it had to be ABOUT the monstrous thing just related to it. 
> 
> can someone please helpe me and write more kanadia bc If u do not i will threaten u with more of this sorta crap


	6. Kotori - medusa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not dumb i know medusa isn't the Correct Term but look how many fucks I don't 
> 
> ps maybe I'll do another this weekend to make up for the lack of one last week ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

All of Kotori’s snakes bend and twist and hiss at once. Maki gets the solid feeling that this was, all in all, a Bad Idea.

“Oh, stop struggling, don't worry,” Kotori says in a way that's probably meant to be placating but just makes Maki twitch, “they're harmless.”

“That's what they all say.”

Kotori titters, a little feminine giggle behind slender hands that's only made threatening by the nest of vipers on her head. Her eyes, dual-pupiled, burn with the gaze of forty suns. It sends a fuzzy feeling down her arms. It's not like Maki isn't experienced with monsters and the like - rather, she's quite good at dealing with them (it runs in the blood, her mother says).

It's just that none of the monsters she'd ever met in her cave-trawling had ever shown any interest in her. Apart from wanting her dead, of course. That's why she'd never felt so bad about blasting out a whole cave system until now.

A wet, dripping sound emanates from behind her. Hopefully, it's mundane.

“You're really smart, Nishikino-san,” says Kotori. Maki squirms. Venom, viscous and sizzling, drops from the fang of a snake and burns a hole in the ground the size of a small bead. Maki follows it with her eyes, swallows, and trails back up Kotori’s body, Kotori’s too _human_ body made of marble and gold. With sharp, dripping teeth, Kotori smiles forlornly. “I know you won't try and run away? Please?”

“You make it sound like there's a choice,” Maki grunts out, “even when you're the one who tied me up like this.”

Her bravado is false, and it's fading fast. Kotori’s eyes, hypnotically bright in the blinding darkness, tug at the edges of her mind. If Nico were here, she'd know what to do, probably. If Rin were here, she'd chase her impulses, probably, and try to escape. But Maki is just the distraction here, for better or for worse, and she knows it. And Kotori knows it. They all know it. Maki can only hope the other two are going alright.

Regardless, Kotori slinks back a little and looks almost sullen. “I know, but…” As she trails off, she looks remorseful. She looks sad. It's just crocodile tears but god does it pull on Maki’s well-guarded heartstrings.

“... I didn't want you to leave.”

There it is. Maki stops trying to free herself for one moment to really catch a glimpse of Kotori’s face. Four pupils, all aimed downwards. Even the vipers seem to have relaxed a little. Something still drips. It's too dark to see anything else.

Maki, her mind suddenly sharp and relinquished from Kotori’s control, snaps free of the rope around her wrists and jumps to her feet. Her bare feet slap against a puddle of sticky water and Kotori barely flinches. The snakes rear up threateningly, defending their host, their master.

Wait a minute.

“You knew, didn't you.” Maki steps back. “About the plan.”

“Gorgons don't live very long.” Is all Kotori says in return. Maki’s wrist pulses once, twice. The signal for the all clear. The go ahead. The get-out-now-before-you're-blown-to-pieces-by-dynamite. Maki tries to turn around.

She tries again.

There's a sinking feeling around her soles and she

_can't_

_move_.

“I told you,” Kotori’s voice drip-drops from the walls around, more sad than mocking by this point, as dread seeps to the core of Maki’s very being like cement, “you shouldn't have tried to leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets play a game of how literal is mochi being today and the answer is yes


	7. Disciplinary trio - urban fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I wrote this during a lecture anyway im thinking of more n girl stuff

“Put that away,” Mikoto scolds. Hitomi shows her fangs but complies, holstering her military-edition rifle on her back. Where did she get that, anyway? It's not the standard issued weapon for the disciplinary committee at all.

The suspect before them trembles a little at Hitomi’s size and apparent lack of decorum in any sense of the word. It's an Orcish thing, Mikoto’s heard. There aren't many Orcs on the force, disciplinary or otherwise, and their presence is always immediately noticed first. Close to shaving six foot (small, for an Orc, but giant against Mikoto’s diminutive stature), misaligned horns, bold tusks protruding from her lower lip, and with deep set yellow eyes always set in a glare, Hitomi really is an impression to be made, and Mikoto doesn't blame anyone for being absolutely terrified - Hitomi makes it so easy.

“Just tell us who's disrupting those public morals and we’ll leave you alone, it's simple.” Mikoto says with a snap of her toothy jaw.

“H-here,” the suspect, Gnomish, probably, hands over a trembling piece of paper. A coupon, for a local noodle bar. Hitomi glares before Chiduko snatches the coupon graciously. “J- just ask for Takamagahara… She'll tell you everything, I swear, s-she's the real trouble maker, not me, not me…”

Chiduko, the good cop of the three despite the three bushy, glowing tails swishing at her back, pats the suspect on the head like a child and smiles. “Thank you, now that wasn't so hard, was it?”

The suspect just whimpers. Mikoto snaps her fingers and Hitomi grabs their collar and pulls them off the hook and onto solid ground again, where they melt into a nervous puddle, unconscious.

“Alright,” Mikoto says, dusting her hands, “I guess we've got a new lead now. We should follow it right away.”

“We should beat the info out of this kid first,” Hitomi growls, arms folded. Chiduko places a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down, Hitomi-san,” she says, “remember - we should interrogate with love, not with violence.”

Mikoto stomps her foot and tries her best to look serious, though her size makes her efforts laudable. “We're not interrogating anyone!” She shrieks, grabbing her two companions by a hand each and storming down the street. “We're the disciplinary committee, not the armed forces. Speaking of - Shiga Hitomi, how in the _nine hells_ did you manage to get your hands on that rifle?!”

Hitomi, suspicion clear on her face, breaks free and bolts for it. With a laugh, Chiduko follows, into the shuddering dark of the night. Mikoto sighs, rubs her temples, stretches her wings, and flies after them all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chiduko is some sort of?? fox spirit Maybe, mikoto is an imp or a devil or smthn, hitomi is an Orc and can physically slay me


	8. Eli - fire element

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's still sunday somewhere ,

Peculiar, how the flames curling up Eli’s arms didn't seem to do any harm. Strange, how once it touched her skin, the orange glow turned to a bright, piercing blue, clung to her like it was something alive. Eli took a breath as if she were breathing for the first time, a gasp of life, and her eyes, previously dull, lit up with the strength of a hundred fires.

Hanayo watched, mesmerised, as the wounds slowly healed. Glowing tongues licked at the scars and the scrapes, knitting them together like one might fix a hole in a skirt. And just like that, the moment was gone, and Eli stood upright once more. The flames turned white-hot before seeping into Eli’s skin and disappearing. From her gently parted lips, a thin trail of smoke.

“That - what _was_ that…?”

Eli looked at her, eyes reduced to nothing but two bright embers. There was something softly glowing underneath her shirt - pulsing quietly, blue. Her heart.

“Sorry,” Eli said, “I probably should have warned you before I stuck my hand in the fire.”

“Y- yeah…” Hanayo replied, shakily as her reality came crashing back down. She took a seat on the ground lest her legs give way completely. “I t-thought you'd, ah, lost your mind.”

Eli laughed a little, a hearty chuckle that was a far cry from her earlier sullenness. Her eyes flickered as she moved, aglow in the dim light. “Not yet,” she said, “but I'm better now, see?”

Indeed, she held out her arms and Hanayo scrutinised them for any remaining wounds. There were none. “Amazing…” There was still a subtle warmth radiating from Eli’s body, even though the fire had gone out. Was this what Nico meant when she called Eli ‘hot stuff’? Somehow, amongst the confusion and terror of the situation, Hanayo found that sort of amusing.

Then came the chill.

The moment Hanayo started shivering, Eli held out her hand. Chivalrous, like a knight. When Hanayo took it, the heat instantly spread throughout her body and warmed her heart. Once on her feet, Eli gave a soft and familiar smile, and her eyes were no longer frightening, but more like the hearth. Like home. Under her shirt, Eli’s heart still pulsed, a little faster now.

“Come on, let's go,” Eli said gently, and Hanayo was inclined to agree. It was cold out, but it wouldn't be so cold or so dangerous or so lonely with Eli by her side. “We've still got a way to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's the context for this? make ur own.


	9. Kanachika - familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk man I just don't heckin know 
> 
> 2 much aesthetic not enough substance

“I- I didn't mean-”

A flash, through the dark.

“I didn't know…”

A storm. The school stands, still. Even after everything, it still stands. Rain pelts down hard across Chika’s back. Her hair sticks to her forehead. She's freezing, but the back of her hand is heating up.

“I didn't mean- I didn't know- I didn't mean- I didn't know-”

Chika twists her hand around for the first time since then, watches the scarred mark on her flesh as it tries to keep her alive. It's the same mark Kanan has, always had. She should have known this would happen eventually - it always did. Before some great calamity, it always did…

A shadow, blocking out the rain. Kanan’s hands come down on her shoulders. Firm. Warm. She's changed her Aspect for today, just for the rain, probably. Chika loves her for it but wishes she wouldn't be so careless just to keep the rain away.

Water droplets sizzle as they touch her skin.

“I'm sorry,” Kanan says. Maybe it's because she hasn't said it enough. Maybe it's to make up for all the times she couldn't.

Thunder rolls. The school trembles before them, standing only by the sigils embedded in its foundation. Keeping the storm at bay. Keeping the end of the world at an arm's length.

“Hey, it's ok,” Chika takes one of Kanan’s hands with her own. Magic sparks like jolts of electricity between them. “Isn't it fine, like this? I was always so scared we wouldn't-”

~~Scared we wouldn't make it.~~

Thank goodness for Kanan, Chika thinks, her familiar, to keep her alive beyond all odds.

Perhaps they could live to see in the new dawn together...


	10. Ruby - curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eh,

The monster, of course, didn't know what it was doing. Curses do that to you, or so Chika was told. Great limbs thrashed about in their chains. Fearsome teeth gnashed within a seamless, monstrous jaw. Water splashed against Chika’s ankles and mixed with blood.

Of all the curses and hexes and misfortunes Chika had broken, this was the toughest.

“Don't kill her.” That was the only instruction. “Don't kill her, please.”

A bit of a hard bargain to drive, considering it was six tonnes of teeth and wild muscle. Just because Chika couldn't hurt it didn't mean it wouldn't retaliate. Blood stuck one of her eyes together and matted her hair. In the water surrounding, a dark shape moved and flickered.

“Ruby!” Chika shouted out, hoarse.

“Ruby-Ruby-Ruby-by-by!” Her echo replied.

The monster roared, rattling the walls. Chika covered her ears and recoiled. The curse was one of great pain, pain that even Chika could feel. Her sword slipped from her hand in a moment of dullish clarity, clattered against the floor with a sharp clang.

Two dozen eyes bubbled to the surface of the murky water, cautious. Of course, how could Chika fight such a creature when she, herself, had been saved not so long ago? The waters stilled. Quietly, now. As quiet as she could possibly be.

“Just let me, let me get closer,” Chika said to the waters. The eyes blinked away. Then it rose, water falling away slowly like it was shedding. Ruby’s cursed monstrous face, just inches away from her own. The last thing a sister wanted to see - the last thing a _friend_ wanted to see. “I have the power to save you, it's ok, I promise. Just. Er, sorry in advance.”

Before the teeth could clamp around her face, Chika pressed her lips quickly against the slimy, damp mouth of the beast in the very same way she'd been saved, herself.

And, succumbing at last to her wounds, Chika faded out by the time she hit the cold tiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahah life kicked my mcfuckin ass for no legitimate reason so that's why. anyway  
> brevity is the soul of wit huh.
> 
> also chika isn't technically dead there but like whatever floats ur boat I guess i ain't gonna stop u


	11. Yō - shapeshifter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought id uploaded this, but apparently not. maybe on tumblr.idk.  
> sh im supposed to be studying for exams but fuck u

“Two Rikos? I'm seeing double?” Chika laughs and claps Yō’s shoulder. “Ok, knock it off now, Yō-chan.”

But Yō doesn't want to knock it off. She wants to stay as Riko forever. She's almost got the stance down, too; a little light on her feet, but leaning back into the heel rather than the toes, like she's shrinking away. Hands clasped in front of her like the meek little thing that she isn't. They even tilt their heads the same way when Riko uncomfortably admonishes Chika for some issue over homework that Yō isn't particularly attentive to. The way Riko glances over uncertainly sends a feeling to Yō’s gut that she can't name, but doesn't like. She doesn't like it at all.

“Aw, come on, Riko-chan,” Yō teases once she drops the form with a grin, “just a bit of harmless fun, really.”

Riko frowns. “I know that, but…”

Chika interrupts by catching Kanan’s attention and sprinting across the school yard after her, motoring her mouth even more than her feet. Yō watches as Riko’s eyes follow, the restrained way they flicker which is so unlike Yō’s whole being.

Right?

“Yō-chan, I've been wondering…” Riko begins, and in that tone of voice that can't mean anything good, “forgive me if it’s not my place to, to ask but - we've known each other for a few months now, right?”

“... Yeah?”

Riko turns with such gravity that Yō remains rooted where she is as much as she screams to flee. “I was wondering, what the real Yō is like?” As she unconsciously reaches a hand to her jaw, wonders if it's the same as last time, or the time before that, Riko goes on mercilessly; “Do you even know yourself, Yō-chan?”

Could she remember what she used to look like (what she used to be like) before she started shifting?

Does Chika?

“Y-you're right.” Yō grits past the lump in her chest. She pushes by Riko after Chika, already regretting the harshness of her words before she's even said them. “It's not your place to ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the views, comments, kudos. pls consider giving me ideas for future chapters if u would like to see more monsters in the future. nothing too convoluted, and it's gotta fit under 1000 words, so a focus on one character or two would be great.
> 
> cheers


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